


The smutty adventures of some random aussie chick

by litowrip



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M, Femdom, My First Fanfic, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking, Sub Mycroft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-04-17 08:54:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14185383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/litowrip/pseuds/litowrip
Summary: Porn....yeah just...porn





	1. Prelude

The first time you see Mycroft Holmes, you think he is an insufferable prick. After hours on a cramped uncomfortable flight, you are in no mood for introductions, but you steel yourself.

"Jennifer Darwin. I do hope we can spend a productive time together."

He shakes your hand, not too hard or too soft, but a firm handshake. 

"Will do wonders for uk-australia relations, I'm sure. "

He gives you a seemingly lazy smile, that you're sure he has perfected through years of practice. It is meant to make people feel at ease, but still, for lack of a better word, submissive.

"I hope you had a pleasant flight"

You smile. A genuine smile and he seems a bit non-plussed.

"Completely awful. But, then again, turbulence always seems to haunt every flight I have been on."

You know already that you feel a level of attraction. Those long legs, that mouth, and that magnificent nose. And when he turns around, you see a rather lovely, rounded bottom, that you instantly want to spank. He seems too posh, too public schoolboy not to have fantasies about disciplining. He, too, seems somewhat transfixed by your breasts, and the fact that you're as tall as him, weighing more. You are strong and muscular, but your weight makes you look soft, chubby and feminine.  
You are to work together, work being more of that bureaucratic nonsense that all brits seem to thrive on.

As the weeks go on,and the paperwork on your desk grows, you spend more and more nights fantazising about him; on his knees, in front of you, sweetly submissive, or as a screaming brat over your knee, having his bare bottom spanked, while whining and howling and crying. You spend your nights dreaming about making him yours, about claiming him, fucking him with a dildo, with your strap-on, about how it would be like to play with that sweet, tight little pucker. How many times you could make him come. Playing with his cock, milking it until he is crying, debauched and YOURS.

But you don't really feel anything akin to infatuation or being in love. It's only when you've worked with him for a month, that you start to realize, how insecure he must be, beneath all that bravado. You realize that he will say things that seem heartless ABOUT people, but never, ever in front of them. You think, maybe you're wrong, maybe it is just your heightened sexual appetite, desperate to make a person you want to fuck, someone you want to love.

But then comes the death of Mary Watson. You catch him crying in his office, late at night. He is sobbing like a child, and your heart melts. You want to hold him so badly.

"It's my fault" he sobs "It's my fault."

You must have made a noise, because he looks up , and for a brief moment, you think he will allow you to hold him, comfort him, that he was speaking to you, to get help, but then his face turns from sadness to anger.

"Get out!" he snaps. 

And you leave quietly, going back to your small rental, kicking yourself all the way.  
The next day he invites you into his office. You've never been afraid of him, and he knows that. 

"I think we can both agree, that as we both were doing something we shouldn't last night, we can let this go without further incident."

You become nonplussed, tongue-tied and it takes one more comment from him to wake you from your confusion.

"Can we both agree?" he asks "Or do you want to make something of it?"

You almost burst into hysterical laughter at the way he sounds like he is challenging you to a duel, but you see a trace of fear in his eyes, and your protective instincts kick in.

"I'm sorry, but only one of us did anything incorrect, wrong or...bad... last night.." you say, only vaguely aware of using way too many synonyms.

He opens his mouth to protest, but you quickly continue.

"..And that was me. I entered your office without permission, without knocking, and I caught you in a very... human moment."

His eyes narrow, and the fear becomes more pronounced, and so does your desire to hold him.

"I...I...realize I may be a difficult man to like... his voice breaks for a moment but he draws from some secret reserve of stoicism."But, believe me. I am...dissappointingly human."  
You smile. 

"You're not difficult to like. You just don't let anyone close enough, to see you. Not the bravado, or the mask of indifference. You."

He's gives you an almost shy, half-smile. And that's when you realize that Mycroft Holmes, stoic iceman, overgrown schoolboy, whatever he may be, might actually like you.


	2. The buildup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Porn will be coming. Soon.

As the days go on you wonder how to broach the subject of mutual attraction, sex and BDSM. You know through backchannels that he visited Irene Adler back in the day; of course SHE wouldn't know that, as he did what half of those blackmailed by miss Adler never thought to do. He wore a mask. You hope that was just for practical purposes, as you know you'll love seeing the expression on his face when...if... You mentally curse at Adler. Adder, more like, giving dominant women everywhere a bad name. 

The opportunity presents itself two weeks later when you're working through another huge stack of paper, wondering why the television never shows this part of being a public servant. Probably because, if it did, nobody would become one. You catch him staring at you, 'well technically if two people are staring at each other it's more of a catch and release' your mind manages to provide you with, the kind of sentence that makes sense in your head, but upon closer inspection is revealed to be nonsense. It does however make you fall into daydreaming about somehow catching a nude pixie Mycroft in a butterfly net, and how to properly spank someone so tiny without crushing them. You're in the middle of trying out various pixie-spanking implements when you hear a small peeved cough from the bigger and realer version of Mycroft, which snaps you back into the physical realm.

" I... sorry I was lost in thought " you admit.

"About?" he asks.

"Pixies." you say before your mind can provide you with a lie.

"Pixies?" Mycroft asks incredulously.

You mentally facepalm, pixies in suits carrying tiny smartphonesrandomly popping into your thoughts. And in that moment you decide to grasp the opportunity, you're already humilliated, who gives a fuck?

"Actually, I was going to ask...couldn't find an opportunity... I was going to ask if you'd like to go out some time?"

"Go...out?" he asks.

"Yes. I like you, you like me, I'm here for atleast a month still. I was thinking we could go out. And other things...Things that maybe we should discuss out of a work setting... Proclivities that we both have that I'd like to explore. If you wanted to...No is always a valid answer, I wont punish you for that..."

You blush at your choice of words. "I mean...I didn't mean..."

He is smiling, a genuine smile."Don't worry. I know what you meant. I'd like that."

And that is how it begins. You plan to meet and play when you both have some free time. Have dinner, get to know eachother a bit and then have fun. You usually don't bother with the dinner thing if you play in another country and just want to get off, but you like him. You reeealy like him. You have lunch together every day and a nice lowkey dinner in one of those posh restaurants that are so posh that proper food preparation is apppearantly beneath them. But you eat your semi-raw potatos and your overcooked chicken with enjoyment, flirting and talking, the air buzzing with expectation.

Then suddenly it's thursday and because of the vast bureaucratic system that has to check, examine and validate every boring letter in between you being given the boring files suddenly grinding to a halt, you find yourself free for the weekend. So you both plan to take advantage of it.

The next morning you pack your bag, hoping he wont be overwhelmed by all your toys. It's a travelbag on wheels carrying toys and a few files in case his PA shows up. You take a deep breath, exit your flat and enter the nondescript vehicle that you are provided to get around in.

As the driver pulls up to the expensive building and you step out, the travelbag safely deposited in your hand; you realize this is actually going to go ahead,and you feel that persistant throbbing between your legs, that deep hum of arousal and expectance. You thank the driver, no questions asked about return trips. The Brits must have discretion stamped into their DNA. You venture forth into the night.

You promise yourself, that before the evening is through, you will make Mycroft Holmes scream in pleasure; or pain. Or both.


	3. Beginning

You reach the door and ring the bell. 5 seconds later, the door opens and you figure he must have standing by the door, waiting. He smiles, a vaguely diplomatic smile, still in work mode.

"Miss Darwin...Jennifer...Come on in."

You walk through t Ihe door into his giant, vaguely mideval home. You notice a suit of armour and some paintings, one of them vaguely resembling Mycroft.

"Nice place." 

"Thank you."

"It's very... retro..."

"Yes...I... suppose it is."

You throw cation to the wind and decide to be blunt.

"Let's get started then. I've dreamt about turning that pretty little bum of yours red for ages . Safewords?"

He turns faintly pink but seems to enjoy your direct approach.

""Basic red, yellow, green. "Watson"to stop or if I'm feeling ill. Do not want to go to hospital with an erection and that name will kill it stone dead. I've been dreaming as well, just so you know."

"Have you been touching yourself?"

He nods, the the pink tinge turning a bit more red.

"Well that's fine as long as you've been thinking of me."

"I have. So many... scenarios.."  
You exchange a few more phrases of no importance, and then you finally move to the bedroom.

As you enter, you notice his huge, surprisingly unadorned, bed. It Is a slightly oldfashioned in design, while no doubt being new, wooden headboard and white sheets and a pillow. No bedsheet decor. You place your bag where you will be able to reach it without too much contortion and sit on the bed. He also sits, looking down, his beautiful hands in his lap. You feel that deep, red arousal that gathers in your stomach, almost painfully intense.  
"Can i kiss you?" you ask. You want him to feel at ease, not shove your tongue down his throat at the first opportunity, so... you ask.  
He nods, and you gently press your lips against his. Those sweet lips are as soft as you imagined. You run your tongue against his lower lip requesting to be let in. He does, and you start kissing in earnest He lets you set the pace, and that is when you realize that he is truly a sub. Your tongues meet and you kiss him deeper and longer, a wet, slow languid kiss, your tongues sliding against eachother, tasting eachother. He is sweetly submissive, and you feel both completely in control and totally lost. When you break the kiss you notice that he is shaking,. He clears his throat. 

"It's been a while"

"For me too...So, Mycroft, you have been naughty, and I need to spank your bare, little bottom before we can move on. I kissed you because you need to know that you're still a good boy, but good boys need spankings the most."

"Does it... Does it have to be... bare?" He says looking apprehensive. He's a good actor and you get butterflies in your stomach, nervous, but so exited.

You stroke his hair and look into his eyes. He has an innocent wide-eyed look, but beneath you can see his arousal and just a hint of nerves.

"I'm afraid so it will have to be on the bare, sweetheart. I need to see what I'm doing."  
"It's embarassing ..." He whines. 

You laugh and feel yourself relaxing into the role and you can feel Mycroft doing the same.

" It's supposed to be."

You move until you are sitting against the headboard. 

"Over my lap." 

You pat your lap. You want him spread out over it, not balancing over your knees, hands on the floor, but laying over your lap, stretched out across that gigantic bed of his. He is still wearing his trousers, sporting an impressive erection as he carefully positions himself over your lap. The closeness of him , the weight of him, over your lap gives you little jolts of pleasure; you're so wet that you wonder if there'll be a wet patch on the sheets when you stand up.

You pull his trousers down and then his pants, maneuvering them past his erection, exposing that lovely bum of his. You feel giddy with excitement. He is lying over your knees still in his shirt and vest , trousers pulled down to just below his bare bottom, plump and pert, presented delightfully to you, and you know you're about to turn that porcelain skin red. It's not the rock-hard skinny arse of a 20-year-old, but the plump, pale bottom of a man is his forties, delightfully jiggly without being saggy, smooth, and very pert for a man over 40. You can feel your cunt humming with pleasure, that lovely feeling of almost coming untouched. You take a moment to appreciate the view.  
His breath is fast and he can't help but push his bottom upwards and whimpering,

"Relax."

You run your hand across his back in soothing circles. Then you rub his buttocks the same way, slow and sensual loving their silkiness, until he gradually relaxes and when you feel him release the breath he's been holding, you spank him hard with your hand. He gives a yelp and his buttocks jiggle enticingly. You start spanking him rhythmically, slowly, enjoying the pink colour you create with every slap to his quivering arse. Mycroft makes little noises with every spank,little sweet yelps of pain and pleasure. He is rock hard and dripping. You start to spank a bit harder. He moans once, and you lose it, he is so delicious, so you spank harder and harder, faster and faster, his plump, smooth bottom jiggling with every smack and turning from pink to red. Every spank making a deliciously wet slapping sound, that goes straight to your cunt. You stop abruptly. Your hand is starting to sting  
"I think I'm going to have to use the naughty brush. You have been neglected for too long"

You feel his cock harden as you say the word naughty.

"No, I refuse. I am not a schoolchild." he says in his normal voice and you start to wonder if he means it. But his cock is hard. He wants you to take him down. the cold, hard man he pretends to be, wants you to expose the overgrown naughty schoolboy. You hesitate. 

"Do you remember your safeword?"

"Watson" he sighs obviously disappointed   
Well not for long.

"I will not have that tone, young man! I am in charge of your wellbeing. You are nothing but a posh schoolboy in need of a sore bum! And I WILL make it sore!"  
You reach into your bag bringing out a heavy wooden brush, showing it to him.

"Kiss it"

"You cannot make me."

"Well, we'll see about that."

You hold him firm with one hand and then you bring the brush down hard on his exposed buttocks, in a steady rhythm before he suddenly kicks upwards, hitting your hand.

"One more kick and I will pin you down, boy"

" I am NOT a child! Let go of me!" he kicks again wriggling in your lap. This is a gamble, both he and you know it. 

But you feel his need to be punished, taken down and cared for, safe knowing that the world is predictable, even as you both know it never is.

"How dare you speak to me like that?"

You put your leg over both his,his effectively pinning him in place. your one arm around his waist the other proceeding to rain spank after spank down onto his unprotected buttocks, who are already a deep pink colour, now turning red.  
He whines loudly, whines turning into yells, yells turning into sobs.  
"Stop!Sto-oo-oop! I'll behave!  
Knowing him well enough now to continue the punishment despite protests ,you keep going, enjoying ever howl, scream and sob.


End file.
